A friend and I were hiking on the Bruce trail in Ontario several years ago, and we stopped in one of the small Towns that are interspersed along the route, and saw that Tom was playing at the bar in town, do we stopped in. When we sat down, he greeted us from the stage (there were less than a dozen people there), poured himself a pint of beer and then proceeded to set the glass down and chug the rest of the mostly full pitcher. By the end of the night, both me and my friend were up on stage with him singing tunes and getting really hammered on his dime.

My friend got so drunk he fell of the stage, and kicked out of the bar. I of course had to go with him (he had the hotel key), but Tom was still sober enough to finish his set and leave under his own steam.

It's a joke... Apple has produced what equates to a year + old Android phone with busted maps, no nfc, expandability, or redeeming, unique features at all. What happened? Steve jobs the only one with any creativity at Apple?

When Jamie Biggar and his colleagues in Canada’s youth climate movement returned from the disastrous Copenhagen conference on global warming in December, 2010, they did so with a deep sense of betrayal and abandonment.

The adults charged with addressing the world’s climate crisis seemed incapable of setting aside personal agendas, domestic political considerations and petty international grievances for the sake of the planet. And it was increasingly apparent that 20-somethings like Mr. Biggar were going to be stuck with the unhappy consequences of their short-sighted inaction.More related to this storyAlone, so alone, in VancouverOnly a cop’s cop may have the clout to fix the RCMPCold comfort as Occupy Vancouver washed away with the rain

It was around this time that Mr. Biggar and his friend, Adam Shedletzky, began talking about starting up a political-action organization in Canada modelled on MoveOn.org in the United States. Since its beginning in 1998, MoveOn had morphed into a powerful, and deep-pocketed non-profit that advocates and campaigns for progressive positions on a range of issues.

And in March of this year, leadnow.ca was born.

With the collapse of the Occupy encampments and the future of the movement in doubt, leadnow could well emerge as an intelligent and more focused alternative to a leaderless association that never had an overarching strategy for success.

In less than a year, leadnow has attracted 60,000 members. The 28-year-old Mr. Biggar says the organization’s goal is to have half a million by the time the next federal election rolls around. While it is youth-led, leadnow strives to be a group that bridges generations.

With his founding partner at law school, Mr. Biggar is the voice and face of what is now essentially a two-person organization. (He and Matt Carroll, leadnow’s campaigns director, share a small salary.) This isn’t so bad. Mr. Biggar, who has his masters in environmental studies, is whip smart and far more eloquent than many political leaders in Canada.

“I think there is a sense, particularly among young people, that a lot of the systems and institutions in our society are really broken,” Mr. Biggar told me. “And there is a deep desire, I think, to work not just on becoming more effective within the system we have today, but also starting to look at how we can make it better, how we can create a more equal society, how we can achieve deep sustainability.”

Mr. Biggar acknowledges that the bleak future for his generation is also a motivator. And yet he is quick to add: “Even though ours is the first generation that expects to live much worse lives than their parents enjoyed, we don’t see this as a generational conflict. We don’t want to get into the blame game with the boomers. That doesn’t feel constructive to us.”

That sound you hear is a political star in the making.

Leadnow first attracted attention during the federal election in the spring when it organized “vote mobs” on Canadian college and university campuses that urged notoriously apathetic students to get out and exercise their democratic right.

Currently, leadnow is involved in a campaign to get the federal government to reconsider its crime bill. This week, organizers dropped in on the constituency offices of 160 MPs to deliver a 30,000-name petition opposing the bill along with the Canadian Bar Association’s 10-point critique of the legislation.

Leadnow’s petitions always have an array of targets.

When Canadian-based Brookfield Asset Management tried to get the Occupy Wall Street protesters evicted from the Manhattan park that it owns, leadnow sprung into action. It quickly got 12,000 names on a petition, which produced 12,000 e-mails that flooded the inboxes of Brookfield executives.

Those who sign a leadnow petition agree to have their names on an e-mail sent to people in a position to change or influence the issue.

Mr. Biggar says leadnow will be involved in two types of campaigns. One will be reacting to what the federal government is doing, holding it accountable on behalf of the 62 per cent of Canadians who voted for change in the last election. The other will be longer-term, more strategic efforts to bring about more fundamental changes. Electoral reform and economic inequality are two of the areas on which the group is focusing.

Leadnow has assembled an impressive list of advisers that includes the likes of Alex Himelfarb, a former Clerk of the Privy Council, and Beth Wilson, a managing partner at KPMG and one of the most powerful female voices in the country.

“We want to talk to people across political parties and try and create a values-based coalition of Canadians to bring about constructive change,” Mr. Biggar says. “We want to be a participatory, member-led democracy that people can trust. That’s what we’re trying to build here.”

A law under consideration in South Dakota would expand the definition of "justifiable homicide" to include killings that are intended to prevent harm to a fetus—a move that could make it legal to kill doctors who perform abortions. The Republican-backed legislation, House Bill 1171, has passed out of committee on a nine-to-three party-line vote, and is expected to face a floor vote in the state's GOP-dominated House of Representatives soon."The bill in South Dakota is an invitation to murder abortion providers."

The bill, sponsored by state Rep. Phil Jensen, a committed foe of abortion rights, alters the state's legal definition of justifiable homicide by adding language stating that a homicide is permissible if committed by a person "while resisting an attempt to harm" that person's unborn child or the unborn child of that person's spouse, partner, parent, or child. If the bill passes, it could in theory allow a woman's father, mother, son, daughter, or husband to kill anyone who tried to provide that woman an abortion—even if she wanted one.

Jensen did not return calls to his home or his office requesting comment on the bill, which is cosponsored by 22 other state representatives and four state senators.

"The bill in South Dakota is an invitation to murder abortion providers," says Vicki Saporta, the president of the National Abortion Federation, the professional association of abortion providers. Since 1993, eight doctors have been assassinated at the hands of anti-abortion extremists, and another 17 have been the victims of murder attempts. Some of the perpetrators of those crimes have tried to use the justifiable homicide defense at their trials. "This is not an abstract bill," Saporta says. The measure could have major implications if a "misguided extremist invokes this 'self-defense' statute to justify the murder of a doctor, nurse or volunteer," the South Dakota Campaign for Healthy Families warned in a message to supporters last week.

The original version of the bill did not include the language regarding the "unborn child"; it was pitched as a simple clarification of South Dakota's justifiable homicide law. Last week, however, the bill was "hoghoused"—a term used in South Dakota for heavily amending legislation in committee—in a little-noticed hearing. A parade of right-wing groups—the Family Heritage Alliance, Concerned Women for America, the South Dakota branch of Phyllis Schlafly's Eagle Forum, and a political action committee called Family Matters in South Dakota—all testified in favor of the amended version of the law.

Jensen, the bill's sponsor, has said that he simply intends to bring "consistency" to South Dakota's criminal code, which already allows prosecutors to charge people with manslaughter or murder for crimes that result in the death of fetuses. But there's a difference between counting the murder of a pregnant woman as two crimes—which is permissible under law in many states—and making the protection of a fetus an affirmative defense against a murder charge.

UPDATE: Due to an editing error, an earlier, updated version of this article that was briefly available online stated that exemptions had been added to the bill. Sorry. People for the American Way, a major progressive advocacy group, has issued a statement condemning the judiciary committee's version of 1171.

"They always intended this to be a fetal personhood bill, they just tried to cloak it as a self-defense bill," says Kristin Aschenbrenner, a lobbyist for South Dakota Advocacy Network for Women. "They're still trying to cloak it, but they amended it right away, making their intent clear." The major change to the legislation also caught abortion rights advocates off guard. "None of us really felt like we were prepared," she says.

Sara Rosenbaum, a law professor at George Washington University who frequently testifies before Congress about abortion legislation, says the bill is legally dubious. "It takes my breath away," she says in an email to Mother Jones. "Constitutionally, a state cannot make it a crime to perform a constitutionally lawful act."

South Dakota already has some of the most restrictive abortion laws in the country, and one of the lowest abortion rates. Since 1994, there have been no providers in the state. Planned Parenthood flies a doctor in from out-of-state once a week to see patients at a Sioux Falls clinic. Women from the more remote parts of the large, rural state drive up to six hours to reach this lone clinic. And under state law women are then required to receive counseling and wait 24 hours before undergoing the procedure. (Click here for an interactive map of abortion restrictions.)

Before performing an abortion, a South Dakota doctor must offer the woman the opportunity to view a sonogram. And under a law passed in 2005, doctors are required to read a script meant to discourage women from proceeding with the abortion: "The abortion will terminate the life of a whole, separate, unique, living human being." Until recently, doctors also had to tell a woman seeking an abortion that she had "an existing relationship with that unborn human being" that was protected under the Constitution and state law and that abortion poses a "known medical risk" and "increased risk of suicide ideation and suicide." In August 2009, a US District Court Judge threw out those portions of the script, finding them "untruthful and misleading." The state has appealed the decision.

The South Dakota legislature has twice tried to ban abortion outright, but voters rejected the ban at the polls in 2006 and 2008, by a 12-point margin both times. Conservative lawmakers have since been looking to limit access any other way possible. "They seem to be taking an end run around that," says state Sen. Angie Buhl, a Democrat. "They recognize that people don't want a ban, so they are trying to seek a de facto ban by making it essentially impossible to access abortion services."

South Dakota's legislature is strongly tilted against abortion rights, which makes passing restrictions fairly easy. Just 19 of 70 House members and 5 of the 35 state senators are Democrats—and many of the Democrats also oppose abortion rights.

The law that would legalize killing abortion providers is just one of several measures under consideration in the state that would create more obstacles for a woman seeking an abortion. Another proposed law, House Bill 1217, would force women to undergo counseling at a Crisis Pregnancy Center (CPC) before they can obtain an abortion. CPCs are not regulated and are generally run by anti-abortion Christian groups and staffed by volunteers—not doctors or nurses—with the goal of discouraging women from having abortions.

A congressional investigation into CPCs in 2006 found that the centers often provide "false or misleading information about the health risks of an abortion"—alleging ties between abortion and breast cancer, negative impacts on fertility, and mental-health concerns. "This may advance the mission of the pregnancy resource centers, which are typically pro-life organizations dedicated to preventing abortion," the report concluded, "but it is an inappropriate public health practice." In a recent interview, state Rep. Roger Hunt, one of the bill's sponsors, acknowledged that its intent is to "drastically reduce" the number of abortions in South Dakota.

House Bill 1217 would also require women to wait 72 hours after counseling before they can go forward with the abortion, and would require the doctor to develop an analysis of "risk factors associated with abortion" for each woman—a provision that critics contend is intentionally vague and could expose providers to lawsuits. A similar measure passed in Nebraska last spring, but a federal judge threw it out it last July, arguing that it would "require medical providers to give untruthful, misleading and irrelevant information to patients" and would create "substantial, likely insurmountable, obstacles" to women who want abortions. Extending the wait time and requiring a woman to consult first with the doctor, then with the CPC, and then meet with the doctor again before she can undergo the procedure would add additional burdens for women—especially for women who work or who already have children.

The South Dakota bills reflect a broader national strategy on the part of abortion-rights opponents, says Elizabeth Nash, a public policy associate with the Guttmacher Institute, a federal reproductive health advocacy and research group. "They erect a legal barrier, another, and another," says Nash. "At what point do women say, 'I can't climb that mountain'? This is where we're getting to."

First one is from a band called "The Orange Swirl Society". Can't tell you much about these guys, as there is not much to tell from what I can find.. this is the only known recording. Very trippy. From the compliation "Songs of faith and inspiration".

Next one is a very catchy tune by the Muzic Emporium... awesome group. I love this song. The title is what buddhists call "the diamond sutra", and is the only thing the buddha left verbatim to his followers... very powerful sutra etc etc. That is all hippy bullshit, but the song is wild, albeit a little hokey.